


A Night In

by Impala_Dreamer



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, NSFW, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-12 11:23:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16872040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Dreamer/pseuds/Impala_Dreamer
Summary: ~Dean decides to surprise you with a night in for your birthday~





	A Night In

“Dean… come on, I don’t like this.”

“Just trust me, Kitten,” he chuckled in your ear. “Have I ever steered you wrong?”

You stopped your staccato steps and turned to where you assumed Dean’s face was. “Do you really want me to answer that? Also, you’re literally steering me at the moment and it’s making me nervous.”

His hand tightened around yours in a comforting squeeze. “Hey, now, use your senses, Krystal. You’re a detective, where are you?” Dean’s laugh was full and it echoed around you, giving you a clue as to where you were.

“In the hallway.”

“Good girl, and where could I possibly be leading you?”

You wiggled your nose, trying to coax the bandana blindfold off of your eyes, but Dean had made sure it was secure. You could just picture his smirk as he watched you; your expression cycling from nervous to annoyed and back around to adorably flattered. Dean was going to a lot of trouble for whatever he had planned, and while you did appreciate it, you just couldn’t pass up an opportunity to pick at him a bit.

Sighing dramatically, you tossed your hands in the air. “I don’t know, Dean. Take this thing off.” You lifted a hand to your eyes, but Dean caught your fingers just in time and pulled you forward. You stumbled a bit, still wearing the heels he’d asked you to put on, and the tight little black dress that you only wore on cases. As you thought about it a little more, Dean leading you to the bedrooms and not out to the Impala was a little aggravating as it’d taken you almost an hour to get dressed for your night out.

“Don’t you dare,” he scolded in a whisper, rearranging himself to keep you steady. You felt him move to your side, his left arm sliding slowly behind your back as he held your right hand tight in his own.

“Dean…”

“Cut the complaints, we’re almost there.” His whisper tickled your ear and you took a breath, dropping the tension and letting him guide you around the last corner.

The pressure of his hands told you went to go, where to turn, and finally, when to stop. Dean’s warmth shifted around you as he reached to open the door to his bedroom, and you heard him take a deep breath, preparing himself for your reaction.

“Why, Mr. Winchester,” you teased in a faux debutant accent, “are you nervous?”

Plump lips brushed your ear. “With you?” he whispered, “never.”

His deep voice washed over you, and suddenly, whatever he had planned behind that door didn’t matter, all that mattered was a night with just the two of you. He could have a rabid wolf in a cage with a bow on its head waiting for you; as long as Dean was there, it would all be fine.

“Few more steps,” he instructed, the hand on your back pressing firmly so you’d move.

The atmosphere around you changed; the cool hallway air replaced by a subtle warmth and a hint of cinnamon and vanilla.

“Well, it can’t be your room,” you joked, taking an overly dramatic sniff. “It lacks that certain, dirty flannel and Gas ‘n’ Sip cologne smell that I love so much.”

Dean pressed himself against your back and dragged his hands slowly up your arms. “Hey,” he defended in a deep whisper as his fingers worked the knot on your blindfold, “I get that cologne from the drug store.” The knot came loose without much fuss, and Dean held it in place as his fit his chin on your shoulder. “Besides, you love it.”

“I do,” you blushed and bit your lip; the anticipation of your surprise making your entire body tingle. “But this is nice too. What is it, vanilla?”

“Check it out,” he said as he dropped the bandana from your eyes.

It was Dean’s bedroom, but you’d never seen it like this. On almost every inch of flat surface sat a candle; various shapes and colors all giving off a romantic golden glow. The bed was made, and atop it lay red rose petals, scattered across the blanket in a strategically haphazard pattern that almost, but not quite, resembled a heart.

A confused laugh left your lips. “Dean, what is this?”

He kissed your cheek quickly before sliding away and twirling for you, as much giving you a peek at his suited backside as the room. “This is…”

“Purely cheesy and completely unlike you,” you interrupted with a laugh.

Dean turned back to you, clutching invisible pearls at his throat. “How dare you!” he gasped in mock offense. “Dean Winchester is nothing if not a romantic.” He posed for effect, giving you a sexy opened handed shrug and a smirk that made you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Oh, come on,” he said, shaking his head and turning towards the nightstand. “I am super romantic.” His back was to you, and you craned your next to try and see around him, but it was no use. There was a loud pop, and Dean cheered triumphantly under his breath as he fiddled with something in the shadows.

He turned back with a grin and two plastic flutes overflowing with cheap champagne. The bubbles popped loudly as he handed one to you. “Happy birthday, Krystal.”

It was a long moment before you replied. Your smile was uncontrollable, and if you spoke, you knew nothing would come out but a ridiculous giggle. Dean fit the cup in your hand and then, in a truly impossible gesture, wound his arm around yours as he bent to take a sip. You joined him and the gas station champagne tickled your throat terribly, making you cough.

“Wow, thank you,” you smiled, taking another polite sip.

“It’s garbage,” he said, airing out his tongue and smacking his lips.

“It’s not that bad,” you told him, not wanting him to feel bad. Cringing, you took another sip and gagged.

“OK, OK, I have whiskey,” he laughed, taking the flute from you.

“It was a nice thought.”

“Ya know what else is nice?” Dean asked, his back to you once more as he poured the whiskey.

“What’s that?”

He gave you a sly look from over his shoulder. “I kicked Sam out for the night.”

“You tricky bastard.” Taking the whiskey Dean offered, you washed out the horrid first attempt. “So, you made fake reservations at a fancy restaurant, talked me up all day long, only to banish your brother and turn your bedroom into a spa for me?”

“Yeah, I was trying to be sneaky,” he confessed with a blush.

You took a sip of whiskey and held it in your mouth for a long second, loving the sting on your tongue. “One thing I can’t figure out though…”

Dean looked at you from over the rim of his tumbler. “What’s that?”

“Why’d you have me get all dressed up if we’re not going out?”

He gave a little chuckle and licked the whiskey from his lip. “This,” he said, gesturing to the room, “is for you.” He took another sip, knocking back the rest and setting the glass down on his desk. “But this,” he motioned to your dress, waving his hand in appreciation from your perfectly done hair to the tips of your heeled feet. “This is for me.”

He slid against you so quickly that the sudden appearance of his hand on your ass startled you. He swallowed down your gasp with a slow, deep kiss that held you so enthrall, your legs grew weak.

“You really like this dress, huh?” you managed to squeak out as he left your mouth, dotting your jaw with tiny kisses.

“I do,” he growled and slipped his left hand underneath the dress strap. “I also like what’s underneath it.”

“My bra?” you laughed as his hand tickled your shoulder blade, reaching for the zipper on your dress.

“Under that.”

His lips grazed your throat as his fingers tugged the zipper down. You tossed your head back, enjoying the heat pulsing off of him; the shiver his touch invoked.

“So, no dinner?” you asked, almost panting with desire.

Dean smirked as he stepped back out of your arms and gave your dress a quick tug on the hips. No longer secured, the black fabric fell from your curves, collecting in a messy circle around your feet.

“We can grab something later,” he said nonchalantly as his eyes roamed your form. When they landed on your breasts, he sucked in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as his puckered his lips. “You are fucking gorgeous, Darlin’.”

Your lips pulled into a brilliant smile as his gaze burned into you. “Shut up.”

“Oh no, you are.” He stepped forward, his eyes raising to yours so you would take him seriously. “Ab…” His hands fell to your shoulders and he traced the black bra strap down to the cup. “…so…” Dean curled his hand around your breast, massaging gently over the lace. “…lutely…” His drew his right thumb underneath your breast and followed the elastic band around your back. “…gorgeous.” A quick snap of his fingers had your bra open, and you shook your arms out, letting the fabric join your dress at your feet.

The new air and his eyes on your chest made your nipples stand, and you moaned as the feeling moved through you, downwards, along with Dean’s eyes.

You moved a hand to your panties, ready to pull them from their place as well, but Dean grabbed your hand, pulling it away to lace into his. He held your hand as he stepped towards you, placing his right hand on your hip and pulling you close. You let out a huff of breath as his hard body slammed into yours, the growing hardness beneath his slacks pressing against your stomach.

“This may be the best birthday ever,” you sighed, closing your eyes as his kisses returned. He licked across your collarbone, pulled hard at your pulse, nibbled gently upon your ear. While his lips were busy up top, his hand slid from your hip to sneak between your bodies and into your lacy underwear. There was little room to move, but Dean was an expert. Your heart was racing as he worked his middle finger into your pussy, slowly sliding it in and out, waking you up and making you whimper. As his movements picked up speed, you clung to his shoulders, your fingers tugging at the cheap suit jacket, nearly ripping it as you struggled to stay upright. 

“Oh, fuck, Dean!” Your hand slid upwards and scratched through his teeth grazed your shoulder. “Oh my god, I’m gonna cum.”

“Not yet.”

Suddenly, he was gone, and you wobbled a bit, still in your heels, your head spinning from the wind up and denied release.

“What? Why?” you pouted honestly, your brows furrowed as you looked up at him.

Very slowly, Dean shrugged out of his jacket. He kept his eyes on you as he stripped, loosening his tie, then undoing each tiny plastic button in turn.

“You’re gonna cum when I’m ready for you to cum.” The shirt and tie hit the floor, and the clink of his belt buckle filled the room. “Lay down,” he said, nodding towards the bed.

Your eyes grew wide with excitement at the forceful tone in his voice. “Oh my,” you teased, but did as he said, settling down against the pillows, your ass fitting accidentally in the center of the flower petal heart.

Dean licked his lips as he dropped his pants and climbed onto the bed. He approached slowly, like a jungle cat, crawling over you, his eyes wide, his teeth bared, ready to devour you. You held your breath as he paused over your lace covered sex, waiting for him to attack, but he never did. Instead, Dean rolled over onto his side and picked up a rose petal, carefully holding it between two fingers.

“Close your eyes,” he whispered, bringing the petal up to your face. When you complied, Dean dragged the soft flower across your lips, tickling you with the velvety petal. You smiled and gave a little laugh, but he shushed you before you could tease him with a joke. “Shhh. Relax.”

You let out a breath, relaxing your limbs into the memory foam, and Dean went to work. He lay beside you, propped up on one elbow, watching with darkening eyes as your body reacted to his subtle touches. He traced unstructured patterns across your arms and throat, drew hearts on your stomach, wrote his name on your thigh, all with the delicate flower. Each touch was gentle yet calculated, targeting your most sensitive spots, setting your skin on fire. Your head was buzzing, trying to guess where he was headed next, wondering how much longer his incessant teasing would continue. 

He circled your tits for a long while, grinning like a school boy as your nipples pebbled under the petal’s caress. As he wound the flower downwards for the final time, you whimpered and lifted your hips unconsciously.

“Please…”

Dean laughed and leaned over to pop his mouth around your left nipple, pulling it hard through his teeth as his hand dipped inside your panties. He spread your legs by will alone, and slowly pushed the red rose petal into your pussy with the tip of his thick thumb.

“Dean!” Your voice was a cry on the air that Dean quickly swallowed up. Before you could truly appreciate his plans, Dean rolled back over you with a rough kiss before sitting back on his knees between your legs.

With a predatory smirk, he scraped his nails down your sides and hooked his fingers on the hem of your panties, quickly tugging them down. You lifted your hips and legs as he dragged the lace away, tossing it casually over his shoulder. Your heeled feet were high in the air, and Dean pushed forward, hooking his shoulders behind your knees. He dropped to kiss you again, nearly folding you in half with his weight. His cock pushed against you, but he held back just enough to make you moan, needy and wasted on his kiss.

“Please fuck me, Dean. Please.”

“Not. Yet.”

Again, he was gone, slipping away after another breath-stealing kiss. Dean dropped to his belly, pushing your legs further apart with his broad shoulders. He wasted no time once in place, licking a straight line from your ass to your clit, making you jump and shiver with desire.

“Hold still,” he said firmly, pressing a hand down on your stomach. As you tried to relax, Dean dug into your cunt with his thick tongue, flicking and curling it to retrieve the lost petal.

Successful in his attempt, Dean held up the petal and laughed. “See? And you thought I’d never get to deflower you.”

“Oh. My. God. Dean!” Your shoulders rose from the bed and your hands fell to his head. “Please! Fuck!” You pushed down on his head as you lifted your hips, and thankfully, he stopped his teasing and went to work.

You were so wet, so wound up already, that it did not take long before you were teetering on the edge once more, your thighs shaking around his ears as Dean lapped at your pussy. The tip of his tongue was magic against your swollen clit, and when he slid two rough fingers inside, you could hold your tongue no longer. A ballad of filth left your lips, and the sheets bore the brunt of your fingers as they clawed and pulled, seeking relief from the tension building inside.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes!” As your body tightened around his fingers, ready to pop, you arched your back and pushed down on him, begging with your entire being.

You were ready.

Dean was not.

“No.”

This time when he left, you let out a noise that was too close to a scream of frustration to be ignored. Dean laughed and kissed his way up your body; his lips and cheeks wet with your love. He glistening in the dim candlelight, his eyes full blown and dark as he looked into you, keeping them open as he claimed your lips again.

Your legs fit around his waist, your heels scratching his ass. “I need you, please.” It was soft and sincere; full of desperation.

“You got me forever, Darlin’.”

When he pushed inside, finally giving you what you needed, your entire body sparked with electricity. Golden light filled your vision as Dean dragged his cock slowly out and then slamming back in with a force that stopped your breath. You held tight to him, every inch of you needing to feel every bit of him.

As he watched your eyes roll back, Dean bent his sweet lips to your ear and whispered, “You can cum now.”

It was like a switch was flipped, and your body let go. You shook in his arms, your pussy flooding his cock, pulsing around him as he thrust harder, his own breath coming quick and hard.

“Oh, fuck!” Dean pushed himself up a little higher, trying to hold back, but failing miserably. Your orgasm took control of both of you, and soon pulled him under as well, milking his cock for all he could give.

When he fell, it was into your waiting arms, and you rolled with him, settling into the moment, finding the sweet spot on his chest to rest your head.

“That was different,” you said in a laugh, pressing a kiss above his heart, “with the thing… and the up in there…”

Dean laughed and wrapped you in a bruising hug. “Told you I was a romantic.” He kissed your forehead and then let you go, sighing happily as his head pushed further into the pillow. “Happy birthday, Krystal.”

“I was right,” you said, stifling a yawn. “Best birthday ever.”


End file.
